“How came you to send this piece of scribbling, then?”
“I nev—never meant any harm, sir.”
“Never meant any harm! You betray the armament and condition of the post, and mean no harm by it?”
He hung his head and was silent.
“Come, speak up, and stop lying. Whom was this letter intended for?”
He showed signs of distress, now; but quickly collected himself, and replied, in a tone of deep earnestness,—
“I will tell you the truth, sir—the whole truth. The letter was never intended for anybody at all. I wrote it only to amuse myself. I see the error and foolishness of it, now,—but it is the only offence, sir, upon my honor.”
“Ah, I am glad of that. It is dangerous to be writing such letters. I hope you are sure this is the only one you wrote?”
“Yes, sir, perfectly sure.”
His hardihood was stupefying. He told that lie with as sincere a countenance as any creature ever wore. I waited a moment to soothe down my rising temper, and then said,—